Bellatrix Lestrange: A true story
by SaveTheHouseElv
Summary: When you saw Dobby die- did you ever wonder how someone could end up so heartless? Well this is the story of how Bellatrix Lestrange became who we all know - and hate! Starring Fleurs great grandmother ! This is my first fan fiction so please do comment and review!
1. Chapter 1

**Bellatrix Lestrange; A true story.**

Azkaban the name makes most tremble and quake in fear, not me, not Bellatrix Lestrange. Ha! Azkaban should be afraid of me! The judge seems smug at my sentence, I stare at him cold and defiant I see how it dampens his pleasure and smile because of it. Tom would be proud to know that even when trapped by Mudbloods I was causing discomfort to his enemies.

As I enter Azkaban I can already sense the Dementors tugging at whatever hope or happiness I may have. The place was physically and emotionally a prison. It was designed especially to strike fear and helplessness into its prisoners. I despised how the Dementors were emphasised at every angle. I remember reading that in their natural habitat a Dementor clothes itself in delicious black rags, torn and hazardous filled with thorns and spikes. Here the Dementors now wore similar colours but instead of the rags torn from natural rage and affliction; the creature wore black robes, torn in some fashion but were the rips ended was a sequence of golden and mauve stiches. As it walked past , a tall figure wearing brown robes gives the Dementor a salute. I know now that these creatures of terror are not only respected here but supported, whether out of fear or out of opinion. Something was wrong here. Even the floors are glass meaning the Dementors can glance up at you every so often. See Wizards are clever like that, if a prisoner loses the will to live, then there's no need for them to escape. Azkaban becomes just a place to waste away and die in for prisoners- that is apart from me. Tom wouldn't let Mudbloods get him down, however Tom wouldn't let Mudbloods catch him. Nah, I'll wait a while then make my move. A guard, human by the look, roughly pushes me towards my cell. I sneer at him; I won't be looked down upon by a filthy half-breed such as him. Holding my head up high I snarl "Did you not hear? This is a pure-blood cell" He says nothing, just raises his eyebrows and locks the door. Sitting down I sigh; I wonder what Tom would do in this situation.

_I met Tom when I was just a child, then we were friends and he was 'just Tom'. However Riddle always lived as a credit to his name, he was always so full of mysteries…. _

Looking across the cold, grey room I confess, out of all the places I've been this has to be the worst. I don't know whether it's just the Dementors but I swear, I can feel the despair of a thousand souls screaming at me through the dark walls of my cell. A small child waves at me from across the room, brown eyes and fair face, like a small, slight woodland creature. She must be at least eleven. I've always loved children, pure-blood children….. What is a child doing in Azkaban? No creature that small can truly deserve to be in here. She creeps forward and in a small voice she says "Hello, I am Isabelle Delacour." I could tell she was trying to be brave, I understand that at least from what my mother told me Azkaban is full of nasty people. I guess in that sense I'm in the right place….. I smile at that and look pointedly at her, we might both be here but as long as I'm in this cell, I'm in charge. Luckily the poor child seems to be willing to consort. However I like the look of this kid. "Why are you here?" she says, suspicion and fear has been drilled into this child. I smile and say "I could say the same about you". Isabelle looks down at the glass floor "The Ministry t-took my mother and sent her to the Dementors" she says her voice a helpless whisper in the darkness, like a pillow, rather than a shield on the battlefield. "Why would they do that?" I murmur shaking my head.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

What with all the time I have been sentenced here, I figure I'll have enough time to ask. When my chain of thoughts is suddenly interrupted, as a violent clunking noise suddenly breaks my line of thought, I turn to see that Isabelle has gone from the spot she stood shivering ever so slightly from the cold air. Instead she crouches timidly in the corner her eyes wide and brimming with the aftermath of fear. Square shouldered and strong I make my way slowly but surely to the barred doors of the cell, arms crossed and ready to draw my wand at any point- but then I realise, they took my wand after the sentence. It may be harder busting out of here than I thought. Luckily, I have a few tricks up my sleeve- literally.

_Tom had always taught me to be well prepared for every scenario; he had also taught me that magic didn't come from the wand. It came from the wizard; the wand was just a device that allowed magic to be controlled easily through it. That's why every night after lights out, we would head out to the forbidden forest; there we would practise controlling our magic using just our minds and the 'house elf magic' section in the Magical Beasts and where to find them. Eventually, we were able to get some control but not to the extent of when using the wands, that's when I had an idea, a stroke of Eureka hit me. Maybe I could invent a new way of controlling my magic, a new wand that you couldn't lose or break. I didn't dare to experiment on anyone but myself, but, finally I was able to create it. The tattoo lay red, purple, green and swirling on my arm and with a quick clench of my fist the magic was brought to life. Convenience seemed to come with this new 'thing' I had made as I realised that as soon as I stopped thinking about it away it went. This is the one thing about me that Tom never new._

Relishing the thought that as soon as I was out of these cells my magic could help me defend myself, I allow myself a small, short smile before the clunking stopped and the soft footsteps padded their way up to the cell.

A tall, built, guard stops in the endless corridor that lies outside the cell followed by a sneering Goblin. Stopping to unlock it, before proceeding to walk into the cell, proud and intrusive as if they were Merlin, Gandalf and Oz all wound up into one! With a raise of my eyebrow, I stand and prepare for battle, but, then I realise there is something missing, as the two cell wardens hesitate at first before pushing past me and on to Isabelle?! Who is currently making the transition between frightened to terrified. Feeling helpless now that I realise that Isabelle is not my child to protect- if a child is in Azkaban she must be a pretty dangerous child- no matter my liking for the kid I mustn't let it weaken me. Otherwise, when Tom comes back he may not find me here. I have to review the situation more thoroughly. But before letting some dodgy Goblin steal Isabelle away I have to get some answers.

"Wait!" I cry to the guard as he struggles to pull Isabelle up from her crumpled position on the floor- "What has she done?" "Why is she here?" as the guard hauled Isabelle over his shoulder the Goblin simply stared at me eyebrows raised, the sneer fixed on his face resembled that of an old professor, when on seeing his student fail feels a slight twitch of pleasure as he knew that his student may never surpass his wit. With an eerie smile the Goblin mocks me, his voice merely above a whisper "Sometimes, Deatheater it may serve you, to not ask questions of which the answers will rather make you perish rather than survive- Deatheater" Spitting out the last word as if it was a curse, before locking the door leaving me to stare and wonder as the sound of Isabelle's screaming starts to fade out of the corridor.


End file.
